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it's all about me, but it's really not.
by Nanette Bellmani don't know how to look at her when all her hair falls out.
how not to stare in shock and awe.
i don't know the definitive of the time line
when her doctor says "every once in a while".
(and that makes me angry.)
they say "this" helps and "that" helps
and all i see are the negative side effects
and don't understand how any of "this"
or any of "that" could be a helping her
in anyway possible.
it's me who sees her sleep.
and me who sees her frail.
and it's me watching her widdle away to nothing...
to nothing...
and i'm not ready for that yet.
and i don't know if i will ever will. 08/12/2011 Author's Note: it's not really me who sees any of this. it's my father. because.i.just.can't.deal.with.it.and.i.hate.myself.for.it.
Posted on 08/12/2011
Copyright © 2024 Nanette Bellman
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Shonda Creemer on 08/12/11 at 11:53 PM Love you Nan. Huge hugs and prayers for everyone. |
| Posted by Mo Couts on 08/13/11 at 03:22 PM (((HUGS))) glad to see you're writing again, though. It'll all be okay; promise. This is definitely therapy my friend. |
| Posted by Joan Serratelli on 08/14/11 at 05:11 PM Glad to see you're back. I can relate/ Honest and straight from the soul. Great start- welcome back. |
| Posted by Steven Kenworthy on 08/17/11 at 08:10 PM hang in there with 1000lbs of love from afghanistan...you're a tough girl and expressing thru this poem is a testament to that. be tough...xx |
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